


absolution

by fereldandoglords



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Background Relationships, Coping, Destroy Ending, Earthborn (Mass Effect), F/F, F/M, Forgiveness, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Injury Recovery, Loss, Loss of Limbs, M/M, Other, Past Relationship(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Psychological Trauma, Recovery, Reunions, Sexual Content, Team as Family, Therapy, Trauma, War Hero (Mass Effect)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-16 10:30:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10569462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fereldandoglords/pseuds/fereldandoglords
Summary: Set post Destroy ending. Commander Celeste Shepard’s friends set out to find her amidst the London debris. Everyone keeps saying she is gone, but they refuse to believe it.This is a story about friendship, grief, healing, learning how to live again after war - and the never ending search for self-forgiveness.





	1. Is everyone alright out there?

‘Damage report, EDI,’ Joker’s voice echoes throughout the cockpit. He has a killer headache, and he is sure he must have one or two broken bones. Attempting to get up is useless; he is trapped in debris. Shit.

No reply. Through the cracked glass, Joker can see foliage and little else. Maybe solar light? Just where the hell did they land? And why is the ship so quiet? He tries to turn to the side to check if EDI’s physical platform is alright; she was on the co-pilot’s seat before the crash. However, part of the ceiling has caved in, so no luck.

‘Joker?’

That voice… it sounds like Alenko’s. Joker hopes it really is Alenko and not an hallucination.

‘I’m here,’ Joker replies as loudly as he can manage. ‘I’m trapped here!’

A short silence, and then a reply. ‘We’ll get you out, I promise.’

_Okay,_ he thinks to himself. _We, ‘we’ is good_.

He hears grunts followed by footsteps, then another voice.

‘Joker, it’s Jimmy,’ the marine’s voice booms through the smashed door. ‘We’re going to pry this shit open, alright? Stay calm, man.’

Taking deep breaths, Joker asks the question he was mildly scared to ask. ‘Is everyone alright out there? Where are we?’

Deafening metallic noises filled the air, and then Kaidan replies reassuringly, ‘We’ll get you out of there in no time.’

The pilot decides to continue talking – the lack of a reply to his direct question is not lost on him. However, it does calm him down to hear his friends’ voices, and the last thing he needs, trapped as he is, is to have a panic attack.

He tries again. ‘Is everyone alright out there?’ Silence, and more metallic noises. He wants to cover his ears to muffle the noise, but his arms are stuck in a weird angle.

Finally, a reply to his question comes.

‘We… we don’t know, Joker,’ Tali’s voice reaches his ears. ‘Communications are not working. We don’t even know where we are.’

_Deep breaths, Jeff_ , he thinks to himself. ‘But is anyone hurt?’

A different voice, this time distinctively turian, replies. ‘Nothing a trip to the med bay can’t fix,’ Garrus says.

Joker starts to calm down. The more voices he hears, the more reassured he is that his friends and colleagues are alright. They are going to be alright.

The combined efforts pay off, and a path to remove Joker from his seat is open.

James appears into Joker’s line of vision. The marine’s face is mostly undamaged, except for a few bruises and a swollen left eye. ‘Hey, man,’ he says, ‘let’s get you out of here.’

**

The ship is clearly no longer going to be functional ever again. Even though some areas of it are undamaged, it truly is a goddamn miracle many of the crew managed to survive the ordeal.

Some of the remaining survivors – James, Chakwas, Javik and Garrus – are in what used to be the mess hall, gathering whatever materials could be salvaged. Debris covers the damaged area, but Dr. Chakwas, tireless as she is, is tending to the wounded with the little she has at hand. Joker rests on a makeshift bed, after being more or less forced by Chakwas – he is only sleeping because he is medicated.

Kaidan, Liara and Cortez are retrieving more weapons and ammo from the former shuttle bay.

Tali, Traynor and Allers have their omni-tools out and are attempting to get communications back.

‘Okay, what do we have?’ Garrus asks, a rifle swung around his shoulder. His demeanour is calm.

Tali speaks up first. ‘Communications are out but some of the omni-tools seem to be working, although badly.’

‘Most of them appear to be an easy fix,’ Traynor adds, pacing back and forth. Garrus nods in agreement.

‘I can’t seem to reach any ANN channels,’ Allers says, absentmindedly. ‘You’d think they’d be all over a ship crash.’

Chakwas approaches Kaidan, who is tending to minor wound on his knee. ‘Kaidan,’ she announces her presence softly.

‘Yes, doc?’

‘Joker’s resting now, but you know he’ll ask for EDI when he does wake up,’ Chakwas says, matter-of-factly. ‘What are we going to tell him then?’

Kaidan sighs, rubbing some medi-gel on his knee. ‘I don’t know. We have recovered EDI’s body… geez, no, that sounds wrong. Her physical platform from the cockpit earlier. We don’t know what the next step is.’

‘Maybe we should wait for a fix on the communications before figuring out what to do next,’ Chakwas muses. ‘Perhaps it is best.’

‘It’s hard to say what’s best in a situation like this,’ Kaidan admits. His eyes are unfocused, and it is visible he is very tired.

When everyone is present in the mess hall, Javik exclaims something that changes the atmosphere of the room.

‘We can’t lose hope yet,’ the Prothean says. ‘The fact that we are standing proves that the Commander succeeded. We will not let her down.’

No one had yet stopped to think what this whole ordeal means, their primary instincts of survival had taken over. No one had even considered or remembered the war could have ended. And most of all, no one even wants to consider the possibility that Shepard could be dead.

‘You really think…’ James starts. He then takes a deep breath. ‘No. There’s no way she could have…’

Many light years away, in a war-torn London, a crumpled figure takes a deep breath amidst the rubble.

 


	2. Alive

Celeste Shepard opens her eyes - or at least, she thinks she does. She can only see out of one of them, and not too well. Every breath she takes makes her lungs hurt, and she hears a faint rattling noise.

It is dark around her, everything is dark. From where she is (where _is_ she?), she can see black smoke circling in the sky, as well as the stars and the moon above. The fact that she recognises _that_ specific moon makes her think she's on Earth. But that can't be, can it? The last thing she remembers is a giant explosion and then nothingness. Before that, she remembers the Crucible, she remembers the Catalyst, the Citadel and then she remembers…

Anderson.

‘I’m proud of you.’

Those are the last words he ever said.

Everything suddenly becomes too much to bear, and a whimper escapes her lips. She wants someone to hear her, anyone. Where is everyone? ‘Help,’ she begs, too quiet to be heard even by herself. ‘Please, help me.’

She tries to get up, but excruciating pain forces her to stay still. She doesn’t have the strength to do anything but stay still. She doesnt’t remember ever hurting so much, her entire body feels like it's on fire. Why isn't anybody coming for her?

‘Please… please help…’ she whimpers again, and passes out immediately after. 

**

She feels warm the second she opens her eyes.  She is lying down, in front of a window wall with the most beautiful view she’s ever seen.

She is surely on the top floor of the building; she can see the whole city from her location, its bright neon lights shining. She checks out her surroundings - an elegant slim lamp, turned off. She is on a bed (the most comfortable one she’s ever been on), with clean satin sheets. Closer to the window, there is a desk with a computer that seems to be turned off, a sofa and a coffee table with fruit on it - passionfruit, her favourite, as well as cherries. On the left side of the room, there is an entrance to what she assumes to be a closet - a full bodied mirror on its sliding door. To the left of that door, there is what she presumes to be the exit of the room.

She gets up, all of her pain seemingly gone. As she sets her bare feet on the carpeted floor, she notices a cigarette pack on the bedside table as well as an ashtray and a lighter. Smiling, she opens the pack and puts one between her lips, lighting it. She inhales, and lets out a satisfied sigh. How did they know it's her favourite brand?

She walks to the closet mirror and looks at her reflection. The first thing she notices is her clothes - a simple white tank top that feels soft on her skin, and a pair of shorts. They fell light on her body, almost as if she were wearing nothing at all. Then, she notices the old and faded tattoo on her left bicep - a rudimentary dagger and the word ‘REDS’ underneath it. Her legs, which just a second before seemed to not work at all, are perfectly functional. She shrugs aside that confusion, and continues smoking while checking the rest of her body out for any signs of change. The resurrection scars that she is used to glow faintly in the scarcely illuminated room.

Her high cheekbones are the same as ever, as well as her short buzzcut. Her blue eyes - glowing red due to Cerberus tech - stare back at her. She's satisfied with what she sees, even if slightly confused. Every nerve in her body tells her to ignore the feeling of wrongness and, for an unknown reason, she complies.

She hears a light knock on the door, and then a voice she hadn’t expected to hear again, not in a million years.

‘Siha, may I come in?’

Celeste almost drops her cigarette - why is she so surprised? Of course, Thane is alive. How could she have forgotten? She misses him so much. She puts out her cigarette on the ashtray before answering.

‘Thane, come in,’ she replies, approaching the door to open it.

He slides into the bedroom before she can get to the door. He looks the same as ever - he's wearing the skin tight outfit Celeste thinks suits him so well, his dark eyes are observing the room, and then fall on her.

The moment his eyes meet hers makes every little detail obsolete - she's so overcome with emotion. Celeste immediately wraps her arms around him, nuzzling up against his neck. He embraces her in turn, his hands immediately finding their way to her lower back. His presence soothes her.

‘I missed you so much, Thane,’ she sighs, planting soft kisses on his neck, working up to his jaw.

He smiles. Why does he look so sad?

‘I’ve missed you too, siha,’ he replies. ‘Are you well rested?’

Celeste’s hands are on his back, holding him tight. ‘Yes. Where are we?’

Thane doesn't reply. Instead, he moves his hands to stroke her face and kisses her full on the lips - a kiss that tastes of longing, just like it had the first time. Celeste groans happily, holding him closer, their tongues entangling. He feels her flush body against his and hums contentedly. She hadn’t realised how much she missed his touch.

‘Join me there?’ Thane asks, his voice raspy. He holds out his hand and Celeste takes it. They nestle up on the sofa, comfortable. Safe.

Celeste is so fulfilled and so elated to have Thane with her she almost forgets to repeat the question she asked the moment before.

‘Thane,’ she whispers, ‘where are we?’

Thane smiles again - the bright lights of the city make his scales appear to glow. He then says, ‘we’re not really here, siha.’

Deep inside, Celeste had already known. Everything rushes back to her at once - the fact Thane died at Kai Leng’s hands, the fact she is most definitely not safe or even whole, the fact they are definitely not together and the fact she is most likely hallucinating.

‘I don’t want you to leave,’ she admits, the threat of tears stinging her eyes. She holds on to him tighter. ‘I can’t make it, I can’t…’

‘That’s not true at all,’ he replies in earnest, tenderly stroking the back of her neck. ‘You can. And you will. Everyone else is going to be looking for you.’

‘I don’t care,’ she replies, tears rolling down now. She doesn't feel embarrassed - not there, not with him. ‘I don’t care. I just want you with me, Thane. Alive.’

Thane shifts on his seat and strokes her cheek with his right hand. ‘I’m sorry, siha,’ he says, so softly. ‘That can’t be.’

Celeste embraces him again - tightly, so tightly, as if she could will the hallucination to become real through sheer force. ‘I love you so much, Thane,’ she sighs. ‘I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.’

‘I never blamed you for my death, siha,’ Thane replies, his voice vibrating through her. ‘And I know. I love you, too.’

She sighs again, and stops the embrace momentarily to look through the window - she has never before been in a moment as perfect as this. It all makes sense now, her favourite fruit, the beautiful neon lights, her preferred cigarette brand, satin sheets, healthy Thane…

‘It’s time now, isn’t it?’ she asks, even though she already knows the answer.

‘I’m afraid so,’ he replies.

She knows what to do, somehow - she nuzzles up to him and they kiss again, fiercely, hungrily. He holds her close.

‘Sleep, siha.’

**

She opens her mouth and screams as loud as she can manage - a single scream that drains what little energy she has.

It has the desired effect - she hears heavy footsteps rushing to her location.

‘Oh my God, there’s someone here!’

Her one good eye can only just make out the shapes of people (Alliance soldiers? Civilians?) struggling to remove debris from the top of her body, as well as someone shouting orders.

She is alive.

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't think of a more appropriate day to debut this than on Shepard's birthday. It's thanks to my dear friend [delicate_mageflower](http://archiveofourown.org/users/delicate_mageflower/pseuds/delicate_mageflower) that I actually am sharing my work. She has my eternal gratitude - she's also the beta reader for this fanfic!


End file.
